ACOTAR - In The Modern World

A Hint Of A Crush

Rhysand had expected the first day to be much worse than it turned out to be. 

There was a new girl in his form - Feyre Archeron, she was called. Long golden-brown hair cascaded around sharp shoulders, framing eyes of cold grey steel. Something about her was enchanting, alluring, powerful; Rhys couldn't drag his eyes from her soft mouth, sharp cheekbones, and petite, perfect nose. 

Stormy eyes snapped to his. 

He met them with a storm of his own. 

The fire in her gaze was enough to melt his mask of ice, but he couldn't afford to let it melt, not for anyone but his best friends, his family, no matter how pretty the girl. The mask kept his reputation of danger, fear, and darkness about him. Without it, he would be crushed by the weight of the society he lived in. 

But this girl... a feeling churned deep in his gut, one of promise and thrill. TThe dynamics of the school society could be changed by this girl.  

He dropped his eyes to the floor and a faint smile bloomed on that gorgeous mouth. 

Two pairs of sharp emerald bore into him from across Feyre, daring him to look again. 

Tamlin, the prick, had claimed the girl as though she was his responsibility, his property to protect. Rhys didn't drop that staring contest. He knew that if given the chance, Tamlin would swoop in on the new girl like a vulture coming to take anything decent out of Rhys's life. 

Anger boiled in his gut, feeding the challenge in his eyes. Rhys knew that with his mask, and Tamlin's insufferably beautiful face, that Feyre would lean towards the monster on her right. 

Violet and Emerald clashed. Since the day they had met, Cassian had always laughed at the colour of his eyes, saying if they were a few shades darker they would be as dark as his soul. 

And his past. 

Cassian wasn't wrong. 

Tamlin's eyes flickered with damaged pride as he looked away from the deadly purple across the room. As he did so, the door flung open, and the form teacher strode in. 

"So, how was your holiday? I hope you enjoyed it, because its over." The door slammed shut with a menacing snap and Ms Amarantha strode to her place behind the desk, sharp eyes peeling back any happiness from the students. 

A snarl rose to Rhysand's lips. 

"Ah! Rhysand, we won't have any of that, will we." The snarl grew, manifesting from the pit of hatred in Rhys's stomach. "You look so much prettier when you don't snarl." 

If Ianthe hadn't arrived fashionably late at that moment, two pairs of tanned hands would be tightening around Amarantha's neck. 

Long blonde hair flew over her shoulder as she strode into the room, a sickly sweet smile crossing her face as she apologised for her lateness, making up some bullshit excuse about her alarm not working. It was obvious Ianthe had spent too long on her appearance to turn up on time, as a thick layer of makeup covered every section of her face, and long flowing sleeves slithered over swathes of slick silk. 

A shiver caressed his spine as Rhys remembered how the bitch treated him. He had had no choice but to throw her out of his house for fear of her... touching him without consent. 

She slid into the chair behind Tamlin, right in the centre of the room, and immediately began flirting with him, eyeing up Feyre every few sickly words. 

And so the new year began.